


Mekhi and the Mer

by Kyaxns



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Fluff, M/M, OC, Oneshot, m/m fluff, m/m oneshot, oc/canoncharacter oneshot, shortfic, shortstory, skyrim fluff, skyrim oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 08:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12861090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyaxns/pseuds/Kyaxns
Summary: Romyln Dreth has a mad crush on Mekhi, the complicated Dragonborn, who he's been trying to keep at Riften for as long as he can. He's mortified when Mekhi comes back from a simple job, bleeding out and beaten, and takes it upon himself to take care of him.





	Mekhi and the Mer

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks very much for reading. :>  
> This is my attempt at a one-shot with Romyln and my Dovahkiin, Mekhi, who is originally Khajit but humanized him for this story. It's not the best, but thanks for your time. I'll try to update more when I can.

The view seemed like an illustration found in fairytale books read for children at bedtime. The gates of Riften were open, allowing the strong rays of the sunset to bathe the port city in hues of blood orange. Staggering in past the barrier of the hold, dressed in black and red armor given by the Dark Brotherhood, with a hooded cloak, was Mekhi. The Dovahkiin had adopted many titles as he travelled through the high mountains and the caves below. Romlyn Dreth sat in the center of his town, where the market was, with cerise eyes full of awe. 

The Dunmer had become well enough acquainted when the adventurer drifted into the city for the first time with exotic green eyes that seemed to catch everyone’s attention as he passed. Romlyn was lucky enough to find a seat next to Mekhi the first night he arrived in The Bee and Barb, an inn in Riften. That was how the two had met. Mekhi’s skin was tan and scarred that made the Dark Elf’s mouth water as he watched the muscles underneath flex with each movement he made. His long hair was brown and his ears were decorated up and down with gold piercings. The Dragonborn’s voice, enticing with every flick of his tongue, somehow seduced his way into many of the citizen’s hearts effortlessly. Mekhi stayed for two weeks on his first visit, exploring the area around and gifting Talen-Jei with Flawless Amethyst or Brynjolf with needed skills during schemes. 

When the stranger began loading his horse for the next destination, wherever that was, Romlyn couldn’t bear to see that gorgeous man facing opposite of Riften. The fact that Mekhi would only become a bittersweet memory, something that could’ve been, scared the pale skinned elf. His mother always warned him of such wanderers in the province of Skyrim, as hope that was once forgotten or the diamonds of the rarest. Practically begging, the blonde offered a chance for Mekhi to make some last minute gold. All he had to do was deliver the Black-Briar Mead Romlyn had stolen from work. It was a simple task that could’ve easily been done by anyone, but it promised Mekhi’s return when he came back for his reward. 

And that’s how it began. Every time he saw the adventurer he was growing fond of hang around the docks with that Skooma-loving Argonian or in the stables, making small talk with fellow travellers, Romlyn would drown in the waves of losing his man although they had never claimed each other as such. He would make up missions to keep Mekhi from truly leaving, to keep him near so he would be assured that his precious daredevil would come back whether it was because he was exhausted and needed to spend another night or for the reward. As the weeks passed, their relationship blossomed like a glorious flower. The sun, the thing that was effectively helping the flower grow, was Romlyn’s time-consuming tasks. Just so he could see the brunette coming back up the trails to Riften, because after meeting such a man, he never wanted to be alone or with anyone again. But the excitement that burned in his body upon the arrival of his wanderer was not there this time. He felt cold, like the waves that rolled over him when he worried.

Mekhi’s armor had been torn on his upper arm and stained with fresh blood that ran through the fabrics swiftly. His hood had been ripped from his head, and his Glass Warhammer was weakly dragged behind with his less-injured arm. Romlyn had never felt such a scary emotion as he did at that moment. It shook him so hard he felt as if his legs had been grounded into wobbly jelly as he dropped a crate of mead he was selling in the market for Maven. Red streamed down the side of the Dragonborn’s face, slowly drying onto his beaten skin as he stumbled down the path. Romlyn burst into a shaky sprint through the fallen leaves and cracked stone pathway, catching Mekhi in his toned arms as he swayed a bit. The brunette stood up with a small inhale, using the shorter elf’s shoulder as support. “What happened, Mekhi?” Romlyn inquired worriedly, wrapping his arm around his waist, helping him to the staircase that led under the docks of the city. 

Anxiously, he paced his footsteps with the assassin’s, staring at his tranquil facial expression even though it was bruised. His heart was thumping against his chest like it never had before. The stairs creaked with their lento movements descending down each step. Multiple pairs of eyes all around watched them like prey, with a whole spectrum of different emotions. Was this his fault? Had his harmless task of delivering more booze for him become dangerous? Had his selfishness blinded his view on Mekhi’s very own safety? “Bandits ambushed me on my way back. One distracted me while the others snuck up, and slaughtered Esmeralda.” Mekhi cleared his throat, his arm around the Dunmer’s shoulders as they inched their way to Romlyn’s house underneath the city. Esmeralda was the Dovahkiin’s gray spotted horse with a white mane he often rode on. 

“I swear to the Divines, I’ll fucking kill each one of them.” Romlyn snapped in anger. 

“No need, lad. By the looks of Mekhi’s hammer it seems he got most of their brains on it.” Brynjolf, a Thieves Guild member, spoke from above. He was leaning over the railing that showed an awkward view of the underneath part of Riften. The two-handed weapon clunked on the planks of rickety wood as it was dragged, glistening in blood and tissue matter. Romlyn only relaxed slightly as they silently made their way through his front door where Mekhi immediately settled on the double bed of a wooden frame and green blankets. The Dark Elf made sure to lock the door before gathering wet clothes and every healing potion encased in red glass he could find. 

After removing the torso piece to his attire, Romlyn began wiping away the blood as the other drank the potions provided. “The woman, she looked like she was truly in need of help...I shouldn’t have stopped.” Mekhi recalled with a sigh as his downy locks framed his face loosely. 

“This isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have sent you out there to deliver that damn mead.” The elf replied with a sigh, ringing out the cloth in a bucket of water nearby and tossing it elsewhere. 

Mehki swallowed the rest of the minor potion in his hand, staring at the flickering flames in the fire pit, “That does not make it your fault either.” 

The blonde looked at the Dovahkiin seated on the edge of his bed with unreadable emerald eyes. He could feel his blood flow across his cheeks hotly at the sight of his bare torso, muscled and harboring many scars from many untold stories. His pants were still on, dirty from the scuffle within the mountain trails with a low-life bandit that was lucky enough to get her claws into her prey. The Dunmer had hoped that her last moments were immense with regret and terror once she realized she had underestimated her “easy” prey along with her peers.

“You have been very kind to me, Romlyn,” Mekhi spoke in a honeyed tone that made Romlyn want to swoon like a young maiden at the sight of her fearless knight, “thank you.” 

His heart was pounding harder now. Mekhi was his knight. His sinister knight that bathed in blood of the enemies he sent to Sithis and roamed bravely even in the darkest corners of the night. He wore dark armor and proved himself as a dangerous criminal, yet had the title of Thane across his foreign land and aided anyone he discovered while adventuring in it. Mekhi was a very complex soul to understand. He effortlessly kills anyone who prays to the Night Mother, fights in fists with city guards when provoked, slaughters anyone who’s in his way of appeasing the Daedric, and willingly services Brynjolf for the Guild. But he also spares any coins for the poor who ask, play games with the homeless children, takes Khajiits and Argonians as companions to their delight, and bears the burdens of any soul who needs it despite how little acquainted they are. The elf didn’t understand him, and he was sure Mekhi didn’t understand himself sometimes, too. Nevertheless, the Dragonborn was like a book he couldn’t close even if the mystery was far from being solved, it was still his to enjoy. 

“No, I should be thanking you,” The Dunmer answered with slight blush, “for all the work you’ve done for me.” 

Mekhi chuckled gravelly and then winced, pressing a palm into his own side. 

“Lie down, please.” Romlyn urged, using both hands to push the brunette to rest against the propped pillows. The assassin obeyed, looking up at his companion with beaming eyes of reverence. It made the meadery worker smile shyly. 

“It was no problem, even though I still am not sure if you are just lazy or sweet.” Mekhi smirked devilishly, the gash on his arm and head starting to heal slowly. 

Romlyn frowned, “How is working you to death and endangering your life sweet?” 

“Do not blame yourself for a bastard’s actions against me…” The brunette replied before attempting to snicker only to grimace before continuing, “and it is sweet because not everyone in this land gives foreigners money...many expect us to do tasks because we are inferior to them.” 

Mekhi’s legs were comfortably placed across the blankets and straw, his uninjured arm bent behind his head as he chatted with the shorter male still placed at the edge of the double bed. “You are not inferior to some ugly Nords. You are extraordinary, and your lover is lucky to have a man such as you.” Romlyn insisted, red eyes widening at him intensely.

The handsome man smirked as his slender fingers gripped the longer necklace around his neck (the other being an enchanted charm of some kind) and held it up. There was a saccharine mischief in his bright eyes, as if he was excited at it. “Ah, the Amulet of Mara,” The elf examined, “I’m surprised a fine man like you isn’t spoken for.” 

Mekhi responded more quietly, “Likewise.” 

Romlyn was taken a bit back from the statement. Had the fucking Dragonborn of Skyrim, infamous and rumoured with pleasantness at the same time, just admit that he could see something worthy in the elf? Something potential? He blinked a couple of times in response, feeling his whole face rush with warmth once again as Mekhi simpered at him longingly. 

“I want to hear you say it.” Mekhi spoke again. 

The Mer asked, “Say what?” 

“Why you keep giving me work every time I slip past your pretty eyes.”   
The Dovahkiin clarified. 

“Have you gone mad?” Romlyn snapped in a weak way, his heart fluttering, “hand me that bottle, I think I accidentally gave you poison.” 

Mekhi laughed, cringing less at the pain this time, “Well, perhaps I am mistaken. For a while I assumed you wanted to be the reason why I remove this amulet from my neck.” he watched the dark elf gaze at his broad chest where the necklace lay on the ridges and sculpted curves. His fingers were trembling, subconsciously wanting to pull it over his head at the comment that was now put into his head. Mekhi inquired once more, “Am I...mistaken?” 

They stared at each other for a long while. Neither could deny that fact that Romlyn had been working him in promise of a reward to confirm his return to the port, or the fact that the elf scurried over to him at the sight of his blood and Mekhi practically fell into his arms without protest. Or how they would catch each other’s eyes late at nights in the inn, far too intoxicated and deep in thought to speak coherently even though they wanted to. Or how they were now sitting together in Romlyn’s cozy house next to each other speaking of the symbols for the goddess of love and subtly showing interest whether it be with verbal or physical. This had been the chance Romlyn was hoping for, the ones someone would read about in a twisted fairytale or unrealistic love story. Something he wished to experience as long as it was with the brunette that lay before him, topless and grinning like the evil he went miles under to kill just for the fun of it sometimes. “By the Divines, hell no.” Romlyn blurted out suddenly. They both chuckled that time. 

“Then let’s take our amulets off so we may be together if you wish it.” The Dragonborn sat up, hands already reaching out towards the smaller man who gladly welcomed his touch with a nod. He allowed Mekhi to reach under his long hair and pulled the amulet’s loop over his skull. A burst of joy spread through his chest at the freedom from it. Mekhi’s fingers briefly felt the small hair on his chest through his tunic as the elf copied what he had done, discarding the necklace next to the other. 

“See? I supposed you should have stopped otherwise this may have never occurred.” Romlyn argued an earlier statement when they crossed over the threshold of his house. 

Mekhi hummed amusingly, “I hate bandits. And I hate handsome men who can’t admit what I want to hear.” 

Romlyn grinned, “I don’t want you to hate me.” 

“Then say it.” Mekhi demanded again, more gently while nearing his companion again. 

“I was giving you work so you’d come back for some coin...so I could see you again.” Romlyn replied honestly with a hint of defeat in his vibrant pools of red. 

The assassin grinned wide and gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him close. The two shared a passionate kiss, embracing each other more tightly. Romlyn was careful when touching his left arm, greedily taking any kisses he could get before they pulled away. “Well, you will certainly be seeing me more often because nothing can keep me away from those kissable lips of yours.” Mekhi smiled gradually. The flower was blooming massively, taking up the first page of his true happily ever after of the man he could now claim as his. Romlyn suddenly smiled, too.


End file.
